


I Guess I'll Settle For Good Enough

by Rynn336



Series: Call Me Hopeless, But Not Romantic [2]
Category: Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Cliche, Fluff and Angst, Frontotemporal Dementia, M/M, No Plot/Plotless, like seriously, so cliche
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2016-06-30
Packaged: 2018-07-19 07:18:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7351297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rynn336/pseuds/Rynn336
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nagito is a time bomb, but maybe a bomb doesn't always need to be contained. Maybe, just maybe, it's better just to let it explode, and be grateful for what time it gave you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Guess I'll Settle For Good Enough

_I can't pretend that everything is still okay_

_Until you rightfully say what you said_

_The night you left me here for_ _dead, for dead_

 

They've always been enough. 

If Nagito had a nickel for every time he's ever heard, "Don't settle for good enough," from his parents, the television, everywhere, he'd be rich. Beyond rich, even; he could buy a whole country if he really wanted to. Donald Trump would polish his shoes and Bill Gates would mop his floors. 

At Hope's Peak, he's never taken good enough from anyone. Hypocritical, since he's just the worthless Ultimate Lucky Student, but he can't stand it when these Ultimates, these demigods, half-ass their work and don't try their best. 

But Hajime is enough. Together, they are enough. Which isn't romantic at all, really; their relationship is the size Medium, the Meets Expectations, the C- of relationships, because Nagito is a fucking disaster on legs and Hajime is a clueless Reserve Course student with nothing exceptional about him at all, save for his slightly above-average intelligence. 

Hajime's hands on his now are shaking, fingernails pricking Nagito's skin, but he says nothing. The last thing he wants to hear is another "Sorry." 

When Hajime takes his hand in the halls or when they’re walking down the sidewalk together, there are gaps between their fingers, spaces just begging to be filled like coins being stuffed into a piggy bank, but neither of them oblige, because Nagito likes the breathing room and Hajime is too afraid to grip too tightly for fear of breaking Nagito. Ridiculous, but sort of endearing at the same time.

They’re the same height, which is nice sometimes, but in winter when they sit at Hajime’s kotatsu their legs crash in to each other, bony and painful, and when they finally do get somewhat comfortable, their comfort is not without its winces.

_Beep, beep, beep._ Steady and loud. He watches the monitor’s thin lines, his heartbeat beeping into peaks and valleys and flat lines. They stare balefully back at him. He watches the time tick farther and farther forward, far ahead of him. He’s still stuck in Hajime’s house a month ago, and he wants time to slow down, to go back to when they were enough to hold up against the relentless charge of his brain toward the abyss.

Hajime’s lips are a thin, worried line as he follows Nagito’s gaze to the monitors beside the hospital bed. “You’re going to be okay,” he says quietly, and Nagito can’t help but snort. He immediately feels bad, but Hajime doesn’t look bothered, and Nagito realizes with a jolt that his boyfriend is actually accustomed to his outbursts of hostility.

Hajime’s eyes aren’t the kind of brown that you could get lost in. They’re really more yellow than brown. But Nagito still likes looking at them, tracing the barely visible white circles at the edges of the irises. Sometimes his hair is so spiky Nagito feels like he could impale his hand on it if he tries to touch it, but, him being somewhat of a masochist, he always touches it anyway, and always finds it softer than it has any right to be.

He’s tired. Hajime is always commenting on the way he never seems to fatigue, and he won’t ever shut up. His voice supposedly never gets that croaky, low undertone that Hajime’s does when he’s falling asleep. But, for the first time in a long time, he yawns and lets his eyes slide closed. “Nagito?” Hajime says, his voice edged with alarm.

Nagito shrugs. “Just tired. Calm down.”

“Tired?” Nagito can sense Hajime’s gaze sizing him up, worried. “Al…Alright, I guess. Just…don’t fall asleep quite yet, okay?”

He opens his eyes and meets Hajime’s gaze with a cheerful smile. “Of course not. I’ve seen the way you keep looking at that Mika—sorry, _Nurse_ Mikan. I can’t very well leave you alone with her, can I?”

He watches the blush blossom vivid and pink in Hajime’s cheeks. “Wh-wha—Nagito!”

Nagito laughs. “You know it’s true.”

Hajime nudges him with his elbow. “And you know it’s not.”

“Are you sure about that, Reserve Course?” At Hope’s Peak, Hajime is Nagito’s roommate, and at first it irritated Nagito to no end that the other boy was a Reserve Course student and not an Ultimate. For the first couple of months, he refused to call Hajime anything other than “Reserve Course.”

Hajime nudges him with his elbow. “Of course. You’re horrible.”

“Oh, believe me, I get that a lot.” He grins. “Particularly from you.” He lets the grin fade. “And seriously, Hajime, it’s not like I’m dying yet.”

“Well…y-yeah, but—”

He’s interrupted when Mikan hurries up to them, worrying her lip between her teeth nervously. “Hi, Hajime,” she greets him in that meek, quiet little voice of hers. “H-h-hi, Nagito. I can give you…your results, if you like?”

Nagito nods. “That’d be great, Mikan, thank you,” Hajime says, giving her a patient smile.

She smiles a little at him and looks down at her clipboard. “You seem almost normal, but you’re…a little dehydrated, and your brain and hormones show signs of stress.” She looks up at Nagito. “I can suggest you drink more water and, uh, maybe take it easy for a week or two, if that’s okay? I don’t think you’ll collapse again if you do that.”

Hajime exhales with relief and nods before Nagito can protest. “I’ll make sure he does,” he says. “Thanks.”

Mikan blushes and hands them Nagito’s discharge papers before hurrying away quickly, hurrying away. Hajime grins at Nagito. “Now that wasn’t too bad, was it?”

“Idiot, you were the one who was worrying, not me.”

 

Hajime stops the car in front of his house. Nagito’s parents live a long way away, so Hajime’s house has become his house for the last two and a half years. Nagito unbuckles his seat belt and reaches for the car door when he realizes Hajime isn’t moving. “We’re home,” he says helpfully.

Hajime snorts and looks up at him, smiling. “Yeah,” he agrees, and unbuckles his own seatbelt.

Nagito climbs out and waits for Hajime on the sidewalk. “We’re like a married couple already,” he says distastefully.

Hajime laughs and walks beside him toward the front door. “We are, aren’t we?”

Nagito waits for him to go ahead once they reach the door, and he watches Hajime adjust his collar absentmindedly. Neither of them are dumb. They both know Nagito doesn’t have much time left. With every month he gets worse, and these little scares, like him collapsing in the middle of lunch, happen more and more frequently. But…

Nagito smiles. As long as Hajime will still have him, he’ll take what he can get. Because together, they are enough.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first DR/SDR2 work! Yay!  
> I apologize if I didn't do very well characterizing Nagito...ugh. It was not a great idea to try to write a fic from his point of view. Oh well. Please let me know what you thought, and if you thought there was anything I could have done better! Thanks for reading!


End file.
